Letters on Her Grave
by huffle-bibin
Summary: When a member of the Glee club dies, Mr. Schue tells the kids to write letters to get out their feelings. Rated for character death/ implied suicide.
1. Intro

A/N I know I haven't updated my other Glee fic in a long _**long**_ time, but I read a story in the Angle section and decided that a glee fic of a similar nature needed to be written. This will be sad, just a warning. Proceed with tissues.

Mr. Schuster walked into the practice room, expecting it to be empty. The door creaked open to reveal the Glee club sitting on the floor, holding hands. Opening the crack wider he saw the football team, the Cheerios, the play kids, the hockey kids, Emma and even Sue all sitting together, holding hands. They made a circle around a picture of a spunky brunette, some candles and a bouquet of lilies. Someone was saying a prayer in Hebrew and the kids were repeating it back as well as they could. Soft music played in the background, a mixed cd of the songs the Glee club had been working on and the songs she had posted on MySpace. The faces of the members of the circle flickered in and out of focus as the flames flickered. Tears ran down many of the students' faces, and Mr. Schue couldn't help but join them in their sorrow.

He said only one sentence. Just three words. The room fell silent as he cleared his throat.

"She's gone guys."

No one spoke, no one moved. Tears just ran down everyone's face as the candles surrounding Rachel Berry's picture died out one by one.


	2. Letter 1: Puck

Dear Berry,

I don't even know why I'm writing this letter to you. It's not like you'll ever get it or anything. Mr. Schue said it would be good for us, so we're taking this meeting of Glee to all write to you. You wouldn't have liked it, would you? I mean, we're wasting our rehearsal time writing these letters. Well, not wasting it. Anything we do for you can't be wasted time.

Did I really just write that? Oh well, it doesn't really matter, it's not like anyone will ever read these or anything, considering. How could you do that to us Rachel? Honestly, we need, no, we _needed_ you. Not that you ever noticed. You we're too busy with your dreams for the Oscars or the Emmy's or whatever other awards you wanted. You didn't travel here on Earth. Maybe that's why you did it. You came down and reality disappointed you so much that you couldn't stay any longer. Or maybe it was me. It was me, wasn't it? It's because I used you to get to Quinn, even though you used me to get to Finn. It was because I threw slushies in your face every day. It was because I couldn't stop Krownoski from leaving that damn party drunk. It was because my idea of an apology date was awful. It was because I couldn't convince you to stay at the game until the billboard said 'I'm sorry Rachel'. It was because I couldn't stop you from jumping in front of his car. It was because I'm not good enough, wasn't it.

And I'm rambling. Look at that Rach, you made Noah Puckerman ramble. I never thought I would do that, but you made me. You made me do a lot of things Rachel. You made me happy for once in my sorry life, that was a biggie. You made me realize that I had potential. You made me try. You let me be myself. You refused to call me by that stupid nickname and made me be me. You made me sing.

Rachel, you made me a better person. Not that that would have been hard (I can't give you too big an ego now can I?), but you're the only one who was willing to try. I was so awful before I joined Glee, before I started hanging out with you. I threw Kurt into the dumpster every day. I orchestrated many of the cruel pranks pulled on you and the rest of the Gleeks. I knocked up Quinn Fabray. Yes, I know, it's insane. Not so much the me having sex, let's be honest, but the Quinn part. It feels good to get that off my chest, even in a letter no one will ever read. I feel really lousy about it. I never wanted Quinn, she was just second best. Unfortunately I realized that approximately 10 seconds after you dumped me. Therefore it was too late on the Quinn front and I was too late to save you.

I wonder what you would say to me right now. Would it be something like, "Noah Puckerman, I cannot believe what you did to Quinn!!" before you started to hit me? Or would you just give me advice and talk like someone way older than they really are? That's what you are, _were_, Rachel. Wise beyond your years. I miss your advice Rachel. You tried your hardest not to judge people when you imparted life lessons, but you always did. And even though you wouldn't approve, you would never tell anyone if we didn't want you to, you would just sit there and listen. You let us be ourselves around you.

Everyone else is torn up too Rach. You really tore the school apart when you… I don't want to write it. That will make it final. You know what, everyone else is writing a letter. You can read theirs, if you can read, where ever you are. I just can't write this anymore. It's too painful. Like putting salt and lemon juice in a gaping hole in my heart. I can't do this right now.

Remember, to the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. (Yes, I read Harry Potter. You said you wanted to talk about them, but we can't now.)

Love,

Noah


	3. Letter 2: Quinn

Dear Rachel,

I really hated you, did you know that? I despised you with every fiber of my being. You were annoying, your voice drove me up the wall, you were a know it all and you were a geek. I was perfectly content to hate you for the rest of my life without getting to know you.

But then I joined Glee. Sure it was to be Sue's spy and destroy your life to get Finn back, but I joined. And then I met you. You were nice to me, even though I was awful to you. I knew that it was because you wanted to steal Finn from me, but still. And when everyone found out about the pregnancy you didn't ridicule me. You stood by me, took abuse from me to make me feel better. And when Finn found out Puck was the father? Even though you told him you made sure I was ok. Me, not Finn, not Puck. That meant so much.

I never knew how much you meant to me until after you were dead. I know it sounds corny, and I so don't do corny, but it's the truth. I don't even know how you did it, keeping it all together when people teased you, when I teased you. It is absolutely awful. Its not just the slushies or what they do to you physically, its the mental warfare that is truely terrible. No one realizes how much damage a teenager can do with a snide remark, a pointed word. Quite frankly I'm surprised you didn't commit suicide after everything that I put you through. And you had to worry about Jacob and the jocks and, well, just about everyone in the entire school.

Me? I don't know how I'm going to get through without you. We were on our way to becomingfriends. You understood, you were passionate, driven and just a little bit physotic. We were alike in so many ways. The biggest difference is that you weren't stupid enough to get knocked up by your boyfriend's best friend. If you had been a cheerleader, or if I had been a geek (which so would never happen. You had cool potential, but I don't think I could ever sink down to the level of geekdom) we would have been best friends, I'm almost certain. I would have had Puck and you would have had Finn and together we would have ruled the school. But instead I threw slushies at you and got the football team and every other person in the school to hate and tease you, just because I was threatened by you.

Things aren't like that now though. Puck and Finn don't talk anymore. I've only seen Finn twice since sectionals. Once was at the funeral. For being a huge guy he really knows how to make himself scarce. Puck is still trying to help, but I just want to be left alone with my baby girl. I'm naming her Rachel, if you didn't know. I decided the moment you asked me if I was ok, because that's when I realized that you had been the only constant through out my pregnancy. Finn and Puck had been hot and cold, but you were always lukewarm, there but disapproving. I wish that we had been better friends, because then it wouldn't have been weird if I named my kid Rachel, and you probably wouldn't be dead right now. But that's all water under the bridge now. Somethings you just can't change.

There's been a lot of talk about how you died. Some people say you jumped off a bridge, or a building, or drowned yourself or any of the other usual methods of suicide. Some people say some one killed you, but no one hated you enough to do that. Well, I don't think anyone did. My favorite rumor was that you hung yourself in the theater while playing the theme from The Phantom of the Opera on repeat. Its so insanely dramatic that you would have thought it was a ridiculous idea and considered it at the same time, mostly because its such a good show.

I got you tickets to go see it. I thought it could be a peace offering, me taking you to go see a show at the theater in Columbus. Mr. Schue was going to drive us, he thought it was a great bonding activity for the Glee club's leading females. I still have the tickets. The show was on the same day as your funeral. I put them on my bulletin board in Finn's basement so I would never forget how much regret can come from being cruel to someone. I don't think you killed yourself, you had too many dreams. I don't think anyone killed you, you were too out of reach. I think that you just died. It could have been from food poisoning or cancer or a million other things, but it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that I lost a friend the day you died, and I will never forget that.

Quinn

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A/N I know its been long, but please review? And tell me whose letter you want next. Except for Finn's, his is going last.

Disclaimer: Do you really, _really,_think I own Glee? I wish I did, but my genie seems to be broken.


	4. Letter 3: Santana

A/N Hi. Please don't kill me. I understand that I suck at updating- real life is a pesky distractor :(

So I sat down to write either Kurt or Mercedes's letter, but Santana's what came out. So here it is. The language it a tiny bit stronger in the chapter, just a warning if younger kids are reading.

Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine.

* * *

Dear Rachel,

Guess what everyone always told me- life sucks and then you die. Cheery, right? Well that's what I had to deal with. Day in and day out my mom yelled at me while my drunk dad beat on her until he got killed in a bar fight. Just another sob story.

Bet you didn't know that. No one did. Honestly, you're the first person I've told. Seriously. Britt and Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios are all just as clueless as the rest of the school. I don't like people thinking that I'm different from them, that instead of a rich daddy giving me money to drive around in my expensive car I'm working two jobs after school so I can help my mom pay for the house and so I can afford cheering.

But no on knows that. I guess I told you because I know you can't tell anyone and I just needed to get this off my chest. And yeah, it's weird that in this letter I'm spilling my heart out to a dead girl who I hated while she was alive.

But I never hated you. Not really. I was jealous and afraid. I wanted Puck for years and practically jumped him before he even gave me the time of day, but you, you just walked past him and he got all hot for you. And you didn't even know it. That's the frustrating part about you, what really gets everyone angry- you just don't know. You're completely clueless to the Rachel that everyone else sees and it pisses some of us off. The rest it terrifies. You aren't- weren't- afraid to show the world exactly who you are- were- in a world of fakes and pretenders hiding behind the masks life gave us.

I don't know if you ever saw through my mask. We barley talked, even in Glee, and when we did I was usually a bitch to you. Sorry. It's just, I'm so afraid. I want to be with Britt, to walk around and be proud of who I am, but I'm too scared. I've spent so long cowering in the shadow of Quinn, then pushed around by Coach Sylvester, and before that my dad, that I've forgotten how to be myself.

You showed me that though. Even though we were never close I need you to know that you've helped me in so many ways. Who knows, maybe you'll give me the courage I need to talk to Britt, to stand up for myself, to be who I really am.

So thank you Rachel, thank you from the bottom of my heart (which is deeper then you will ever know, deeper than a lot of people know, actually),

Santana


	5. Letter 4: Kurt

Dear Rachel,

Do you have any idea how much easier it is to talk, well write, to you now that you're dead? I mean, I kinda (really) hated you while you were alive, which was a shame, considering we could have been friends. We could have bonded over shopping and gossip.

Speaking of shopping, you always had a crappy fashion sense, but really, a few hours in the mall with me could have easily fixed that. I feel like maybe if I had tried to be nicer to you maybe you would still be alive.

No one really knows what happened to you. I wonder if you have any idea what happened. After my mom died I realized it's a lot easier for someone to die without even knowing what happened.

Maybe that's why it's easier for me to move on. I don't want to be mean Rach, really I don't, but it's true. I can move on because, no offense, you aren't the first person I lost, or the closest to me.

But all of this is making me sad and sad SO does not go with this new Marc Jacobs sweater I'm wearing (it's green and grey and you totally could have pulled it off, not that I ever would have told you. Did I ever tell you that even though I hated your style I was always impressed with how good you looked? No? Well, there you go, a compliment for one Ms. Berry courtesy of moi), so I'm going to move onto some happier stuff.

Remember when I flubbed the Defying Gravity solo? I did it for you as much as I did it for my dad. You were so good, so strong but somehow so insecure. I knew that I could make it without the solo but you couldn't. Maybe music was making up for your missing mom like fashion was making up for my dead mom. See, we really aren't so different.

I really wish we were friends. We had so much in common; Finn, no mom, few friends, and no standing on the social ladder. We could have gotten along. Well, I guess that ship has sailed.

Stay fabulous darling,

Kurt

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A/N Sorry my update took so long. I lost inspiration for a while but season 2 brought it back. The next letter should be up shortly.


	6. Letter 5: Mercedes

Rachel,

Writing this seems pointless, but my boy Kurt said it helped him so I'll give it a go.

You're dead. I don't know why this bothers me, but it does. You were a stuck up spoiled brat who always got the solos, even when I knew I could sing them better. But then I started to sing more and understood your need to be in the spotlight all the time. It feels awesome, like nothing could ever hurt you. I get that now, get you now.

It really sucks that you're dead. Your funeral was yesterday and a ton of people showed up. Everyone who was at the party, plus the Gleeks, the football team and even the Cheerios (and Sue!) were there. I'm not really sure why most of them did come- probably for the free food. Only the Gleeks really mourned you though. We lost our glue when you died.

Rachel, you've left the club in shambles and I don't know what to do. No one wants to take your place, no one can take your place, but we feel like we have to have someone lead us. And I thought you might want to know, we're performing at Sectionals one short, despite the rules. No one blames us and anyone who tries to force us to perform with a fill in will get smacked down by Puck and me. We've got your back girl, even if you are six feet under.

Miss you (and I can't believe I do),

Mercedes


	7. Letter 6: Brittney

Dear Rachel,

Santana and Quinn and Puck and sometimes even Finn used to say that they wished you would light yourself on fire. I never really understood that- wouldn't that hurt you? Maybe that was their point, they wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you, but I think I did.

I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean to, but it can get so lonely. I'm not that smart, so when Santana became my friend I felt like she had been sent to me by God. Or maybe Santa, because I did ask for a friend for Christmas the year I met her. Either way, I was willing to do anything to keep her as a friend. She told me to be mean to you, so I was. Simple as that.

If it wasn't so simple, if I had a chance to make friends without her, I would have been nicer. I always liked you, you were pretty and had a nice voice, even if you talked a lot. And even if I didn't always understand what you said, you were never mean to me. I miss that. And I miss you. And Glee misses you- it's just not the same without you here.

Love,

Brittney

P.S. It's Valentine's Day, so if you're a ghost or an angel and read this letter, can you send some happy feelings Finn's way? He seems really down today.

Love (again),

Brittney


	8. Letter 7: Matt

Dear Rachel,

It's Valentine's Day, so it seems fitting that I write a letter to the girl who opened up my heart. Yep, you broke through my shell and got me dancing again. I never thought I would because both of my parents find it strange that a grown boy wants to spend his time _dancing_.

You showed me that I could be great. You opened up an opportunity for all of us to sing, to dance, to soar. You allowed us to become who we were meant to be, to use our talents and spread, well, glee. I have never been as happy as I was when you and Finn were singing and I was just dancing, losing myself in the music.

I haven't done that since you died. I still dance, don't get me wrong, but it seems forced, unnatural. I don't flow with the music quite like I used to, and the music seems to get stuck in everyone's throat, like their waiting for you to start the song, to finish the chord.

It's lonely without you in Glee. We used to be a group, united with one purpose. Now we're all islands, separated by our grief. As much as most of the club hates to admit you kept us together. Without you Glee seems pointless. Without you, I'm not as upset that I'm moving in three weeks. Yes, I'm moving. When I joined Glee I thought it would be hard to leave, that I wouldn't be able to tear myself away from the experience. Now that you're gone though, it won't be that bad. I'll have fond memories, but I won't have to stay and watch Glee die without you.

You were the star Rachel Berry, Glee's own sun. Without you, we're just a bunch of planets, spiraling out of orbit into nothingness.

Matt


End file.
